


say goodbye (and leave me with nothing)

by ForeverFrosted



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Death Fix, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Post-Endgame, Speed Force, especially dick grayson, everyone cries and everyone needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 15:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverFrosted/pseuds/ForeverFrosted
Summary: Wally West and Dick Grayson are soulmates.Connected by sharing the bruises on their skin, Dick's only seen white lightning bolts mark up his skin twice. The first time being when Wally got his superspeed, and the second time when he died in the Arctic, fading into nothing. Dick's left with nothing but grief, and skin that will never share Wally's marks again.But then, over a year and a half later, the lightning bolts start appearing again. And Dick's now facing an option he didn't think existed before: Wally is still alive.





	say goodbye (and leave me with nothing)

**Author's Note:**

> me, writing like 20k in 2 days after rewatching some eps from s1 and s2: man, dick and wally are goddamn soulmates.

The day Wally dies, Dick finds patterns like lightning strikes down his skin.

He’s seen them before, only once. They look like old, fading scars, but Dick knows all of his scars, and these certainly aren’t old. Or even his.

 _Wally,_ his heart aches, and the next breath he takes is unsteady, trapped in his chest, building and building with pressure until he forces it out with a choked sob. _Wally, Wally,_ his heart pounds, making a steady rhythm for his mind to torment him with.

He manages to get his suit off completely with trembling hands, revealing more lightning strikes. Most of them are white and pale, but when he walks over to a mirror, some are bright and red - mostly around his neck, his shoulders.  
  
They’re fading though, before his eyes, and Dick watches it happen before something slams into his stomach, once again cutting off his breath. He stumbles over to his phone, managing to get out the camera app, and takes photos of his skin, photos of the evidence that Wally isn’t really gone, not quite yet.

 _This is the last you’ll see of him,_ his mind yells as he flicks through the photos, turns over his arms to watch as the marks fade even more. _This is it. Wally’s gone._

He managed to keep it together in front of the team, managed to keep it together in front of the League, and barely managed it in front of Bruce. Compartmentalisation, he knows, but it’s beginning to crumble in the face of the last marks he’ll ever get from Wally.

Even the brighter ones are fading now, fading so quickly - quicker than usual, quicker than Wally’s superspeed-healing allows. And for the first time in his life, he hates Wally’s superspeed because now Wally’s last bit of lingering presence of Dick’s skin is fading quicker than he can deal with.

He doesn’t know what to do. He refuses to let tears blur his vision, refuses to look away from the marks. Marks, not scars, not really, because they’re not permanent, even though Dick is hoping, praying, to anything and anyone that they will be. That he can be left with _something, please, give me this. Just let me keep this. Let me keep him._

The world isn’t kind to Dick Grayson, though. Almost an hour later, the marks are gone completely, and Dick is left to crumble onto the bathroom floor, knowing that all the scars, all the marks he’ll receive in the future, will all be his alone.

 

* * *

 

When Dick first gets an idea that he has a soulmate, it’s when he notices a darkening bruise on his upper left arm. He sort of knows soulmates exist - the clowns talk loudly, and there was one show a couple days ago they had where two audience members met as soulmates for the first time.

His parents see it, and they share a look before crouching before him. He’s still got his right fingers clutching at the shirt sleeve, pulling it back a little to reveal more of the bruising.

“Dickie,” his mum says kindly, “did you hurt yourself?”

He hums, shaking his head. His fingers drop from the fabric, but his father reachers forward and inspects it.

She looks like she wants to ask if he’s sure, but stops herself. She takes a deep breath, then smiles a little. “We haven’t really talked about soulmates, have we?”  
  
“I know a little,” he replies. “You mentioned them when those people met the other night.”

“Yes, but we didn’t really explain it properly.” His mum reaches forward as well, fingers trailing over the bruise, then down to his hand, where she lightly takes hold of it. “You see, every soulmate shares their skin.”

Dick pulls a face at the imagery. “That’s gross!”

His parents laugh (and he’s too young to remember most of the conversation, but this laughter, years and years later, is what he remembers the most). “I suppose it sounds it, doesn’t it? But it’s beautiful, Dickie. It’s like…”  
  
His mum trails off, but his dad picks it up. “It’s like two canvases. But imagine someone painting on their canvas, and it then appears on yours at the same time, even if you don’t paint on it. You share the same two canvases together.”  
  
“So… my skin is the canvas?” He asks, and his parents nod.  
  
“There’s different types of it. Some people, for instance, paint with ink. So if they write on their skin, their soulmate can see it too. Some, like you, share canvases with bruises.”

“That doesn’t sound nice,” Dick mumbles. It means his soulmate has been bruised, got hurt, and he doesn’t want that.

His dad takes his other hand, and they smile reassuringly at him. “It doesn’t, does it? But it means you know when they’re not okay, and you can help them. You can make sure they’re not hurt. It’s not bad, my little robin. It just means you two have to look out for one another.”

He hums, reassured, and his own fingers run over the bruising. “I’ll look after them!” He declares bravely, and his parents hug him.

“We know you will. And they’ll look after you. You share a special connection with them, Dickie.”

He always meant to ask what connection his parents shared - but when he sees them, years later, down on the ground with the exact same injuries on their bodies, he finds out the answer without ever having to ask.

 

* * *

 

_And what good is it, he wonders, over fifteen years later. What good is a ‘special connection’?_

 

_He couldn’t save Wally anyway._

 

* * *

 

“Richard,” Bruce asks over dinner one night, in a room that’s too big for the two of them - three usually, but Alfred’s gone to get some tea, but even then the dining hall still feels like it’s just trying to make up space for a hole that’s too big to fill.

Dick’s eyes lift from his plate. He’s still not used to the name Richard, not really. Bruce calls him that, and Alfred calls him Master Richard, but there’s something unfamiliar, strange about it. It’s been a week since he’s moved in, and this is only the second night Bruce has been able to sit down and eat dinner with him.

Dick also has his mouth full, so Bruce talks before he tries to swallow his food too quickly in an attempt to reply. “What happened to your eye?”  
  
“My eye?” He asks, once he’s swallowed his food down. He goes to reach up, but he’s not even sure which eye Bruce is referring to. His eyebrows are scrunched in confusion, and that in turn only seems to make Bruce hesitate for the quickest of moments.

“Your left one,” he says, and passes Dick his phone with the front-facing camera pulled up. Dick takes a look, recoiling as he spots the bruising around the eye. He barely manages to keep his gasp down, just focuses on getting a better look at it. It’s a black eye alright, and Dick frowns at it.

“That’s… not mine,” he eventually manages to say to Bruce, who hums in thought.

“Soulmate?” He asks, and Dick takes a moment before he nods. Alfred walks in at that moment, setting the cups in front of them, and Dick takes the chance to hand Bruce’s phone back to him.

“Yeah, we uh… Share bruises, or just any type of injury to the skin. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just kind of there.”

“Does it happen a lot?”

It does. It really, really does. Dick’s noticed the increase of bruises on his skin, usually stuff hidden by clothes, but it seems tonight there was an escalation. Bullies, he used to think, but the hits have been smarter than just kids wailing on another kid. Now, he’s not sure what to think. (He is, but he just doesn’t want to think it).

“It’s been happening more,” Dick finally relents, sagging with the release of the words - with either relief or guilt, he’s not entirely sure yet. Bruce looks at Alfred, and then Bruce seems to stiffen, but relaxes once he turns to Dick.

“You don’t know them yet, do you?” Bruce asks, and Dick can only shake his head. He _wishes_ he did - he wishes that he could help them, become friends with them. And, maybe selfishly, wishes he knew them so he wasn’t so alone - even with Bruce, there’s an emptiness in his chest that just isn’t closing.

“That’s alright, Master Richard, statistically less than fifteen percent of people with soulmates meet them before the age of 10. I’m sure you’ll find them, just give it some time.” Alfred gives him a reassuring smile, and Bruce seems to settle back into his chair.

It is reassuring, at least, but Dick can’t help himself from reaching up to poke at the area around his eye for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

And then he finds out that Bruce is Batman, and all he knows is that he wants to protect those he loves - particularly the one who keeps leaving more and more bruises on his skin every day. And so he becomes Robin.

Not long after that, the lightning strikes appear on his skin for the first time. They appear suddenly, all at once, on his skin when he’s standing in front of his bedroom mirror. Well, they only follow his skin looking like it’s being burned, and it takes Dick a moment to realise they look _just_ like chemical burns.

Some of the burns start taking shape in the form of lightning bolts, and his heart is beating so loudly that he thinks Bruce might even be able to pick it up from the Batcave, where he’s waiting for Dick to suit up for patrol.

“Oh, god,” he mutters, leaning into the mirror to look at it closer The person, or _persons_ , that’s been attacking him - have they done this? But it looks so strange, so unnatural that Dick isn’t sure. He doesn’t know what to make of it, not at all, and he turns around and around in front of the mirror, trying to see all of the damage.

They’re healing though, very very slowly - but certainly a lot faster than they should be for burns like these. It’s not enough to lessen the worry, the way his chest feels like it’s slowly caving in, like he’s losing someone else he loves and once again, he can’t do anything but just _watch._

He watches for so long that eventually Alfred comes to knock on his door, and not even Alfred, who’s seen Bruce in all the worst kind of states, can hide the way his eyes widen in surprise.

“What’s that, Master Richard?” He asks, recovering so quickly that it’s now Dick’s turn to be surprised.

“I - Alfred, I don’t _know_ ,” and his voice breaks, and he can’t even feel embarrassed because he’s so damn worried, and confused, and he doesn’t know what’s going on but he can’t help, there’s nothing he can _do._  
  
"Dick,” a voice beside him suddenly commands - and he doesn’t know when he ended up on the floor, but he’s there now, and Bruce is in front of him. His hands are outstretched, like he’s going to reach for Dick, but stops at the last moment. “Calm down.”

 _Easier said than done,_ he thinks, a little hysterically. But he slowly does, matching his breathing with Bruce’s, until he feels stable enough to look at his arms. The burns are still there, but they don’t look as bright, as awful as before.

 “W-What’s going on with them?” He asks quietly, and looks up to meet Bruce’s eyes. But even the other doesn’t seem to know, just shaking his head.

 “I don’t know, Dick. Come on, no patrol tonight. We’ll keep an eye on it.”

Dick’s not sure that anything could really surprise him anymore, but Bruce cancelling patrol certainly shocks him. He sends a bewildered look to Bruce, then to Alfred, and the former sighs. “Not even your mask is going to be able to hide those, and if anyone sees them and then makes a connection to your soulmate somehow, it’ll put both of you at risk.”

It makes sense, but when Dick gets up and walks past Alfred, the other is smiling a little at him. “You know, Master Richard, I’ve never seen him cancel a patrol before.”

Dick feels kind of awful, because what if this messes everything up so badly that he’ll never be allowed to patrol again? Be Robin? What does he do then?

But Alfred nudges him, breaking him out of his thoughts. “If he didn’t want you out there anymore, he’d go out on patrol on his own. He cares for you, Master Richard, and while he’d like you to be out there, I believe he is just looking out for you.”

A few hours later, and Dick’s almost nodding off on the sofa he’s lying on while Bruce talks quietly on the phone. He’s made a few calls, trying to figure out if there’s ever been anything like this before, but all of his attempts seem to bring very little results.

“It seems like they’re healing, at least.” Bruce finally sits beside him, looking at the marks. “But nothing’s been heard of like this. It’s similar to a lichtenberg figure, but they don’t typically look like this.”

Like chemical burns _all_ over his body.

“Do you think they’re okay?” It’s probably a stupid question, because Dick’s almost braced himself for the worst at this point, and even Bruce’s shoulders seem to sag a little.  
  
“Difficult to say. We’ll have to wait until it heals, and then see if anything appears after.”

In case they’re dead, in case this is their final mark, Dick pieces together. If nothing appears, then nothing, no one, is there.

It heals faster than Bruce thinks is normal. It does keep him benched for a week, which sucks, but his worry is enough to cloud his judgement, enough that he knows he’s probably not in the best state to be going out fighting bad guys. Bruce goes out the third night, but returns earlier than usual.

But he’s right - the burns are fading, and by the end of the week they’re almost completely invisible. They’re just white, scarred lines now, and even then Dick watches hourly as they fade even more.

He doesn’t know what to feel. Should he be relieved? Even more worried? What if this is _it,_ what if there’s no more marks past this?

But there’s something in Dick’s gut that tells him _this isn’t it._ So he holds onto that, and waits, and waits, until the scars are entirely gone. And then one morning, when he plans to hit up the gym in the manor before school, he sees it. There’s bruising around his wrist, and he _knows_ it’s not his.

“Master Richard, may I ask why you’re smiling, especially so early in the morning?” Alfred pipes up, as he goes to walk down the halls to get to the gym. Alfred isn’t Batman, but sometimes he’s stealthy enough that Dick doesn’t feel convinced sometimes.

“They’re okay, Al,” Dick breathes out, the realisation that his soulmate is okay, that they’re alive. And he’s mad about the bruising, but he’s just so relieved that there’s someone there that it’s overwhelming.

Alfred gives him a smile. “That is indeed most comforting. I shall let Master Bruce know for you.”

Dick grins at him before heading off, steps feeling lighter, chest feeling better. _They’re okay, they’re okay, they’re alive._

 

* * *

 

When Dick meets Wally for the first time, he doesn’t figure it out.

He’s got someone else’s bruises sitting on his ribs, and his own marking up the rest of his chest and stomach. He got hit _hard_ by Penguin, and he’s still favouring his left side for it. But the excitement of meeting another side-kick, another superhero, is enough for the pain to take a backseat.

Dick’s been wanting to meet the new speedster ever since he heard reports of a new sidekick, one that seems not too far from his age. The Flash, in the interviews Dick’s seen, seems like a vibrant, bright guy, and he can only assume the new speedster is too.

He knows Flash has been wheedling Bruce to meet, overhearing a couple of conversations. It isn’t until Flash asks for help in Central that Bruce finally agrees to meet with them.

After researching what villains they’re dealing with, Dick knows that Flash doesn’t need the help. The guy is formidable, sure, but it’s nothing two speedsters can’t take down on their own. Bruce surely knows it too, but agrees anyway to Zeta over to Central.

It’s nighttime, which is probably the only reason Bruce agreed to meet, and the two speedsters meet them in an alley. They look ridiculously bright and colourful, and Dick holds back a laugh the second he sees just how unstealthy they are. Definitely different to Gotham, then.

“Batman,” Flash greets, shaking his hand. “Thanks for coming out. This is Kid Flash.”

Kid Flash raises his hand in a greeting, but his jaw is otherwise open in surprise and his eyes are wide, and Dick knows he’s just awed at meeting Batman for the first time.

“Robin,” Dick decides to speak up, cutting in front of whatever Bruce is going to say - and yeah, it’s rude and Bruce is definitely glaring at him, but at least Kid Flash finally realises he’s there. In the same moment their eyes meet, Kid Flash is suddenly in front of him, grinning widely.

Wally’s excitable, loud, and _fun._ He’s cheeky and playful, challenging Robin to things immediately. The two mentors do their best to wrangle them in, but they all know the villain is barely even a threat, and he’s restrained in less than five minutes.

“Well,” Flash says, “wouldn’t want your visit to be for nothing.”

And then, in costume and all, go and get ice-cream. The staff seem familiar with Flash, but are certainly shocked with the Gotham duo. Honestly, Dick’s shocked Bruce even agreed to come to the ice-cream parlour, but seems like Flash knows exactly how to wrangle Bruce into something.

Well, Dick figures it out pretty quickly - Bruce is sticking around because Dick wants to hang out with Kid Flash.

When it comes time to leave, they walk side-by-side to the Zeta, behind their mentors.

“Hey,” Kid Flash says quietly, “by the way, I’m Wally.”

Dick shoots him a panicked look, but Wally cuts in before Dick can open his mouth and protest. “I know what Batman is like, don’t worry about your name. Rob’s a cool name on it’s own. But I figure I probably can’t trust anyone more than Batman and his protege, right?”

Dick’s honestly still kind of in shock, but the two share a smile. And Dick’s heart is beating, loudly, to the point where he wonders if it’s actually medically okay, but he manages to get it under control right as the two of them are leaving. Wally gives him a thumbs up as he steps into the photo booth, and they promise to meet up again.

They do of course, quite soon after their first meeting, mostly because Dick pulls out the puppy-eyes on Bruce. And it’s not that second meeting where he begins to realise. No, it’s the third.

The third meeting, when the four of them are actually teaming up to take down an actual threat, that Dick begins to piece it together. It’s not enough to see the full picture, but it’s enough to know just what other pieces he needs.

Because he _sees_ Wally’s busted lip in time - it’s pretty bloody, pretty puffy, but by the time the battle is wrapping up, it’s barely become a concern. It’s healing fast, just as Dick expected of a speedster, and something begins to tug at him.

He’s been going out a lot more with Bruce lately, and it’s harder and harder to tell whose bruises are whose. In fact, it’s impossible to tell on his stomach and chest - it’s just some of the bruising, some marks around his arm, his shoulder, that he knows it doesn’t belong to him.

So, when he listens to his gut and inspects his own reflection in a passing window, he sees his own lip has a small cut on it. It’s weird seeing it, but there’s no pain when his tongue runs over it, and there’s definitely no blood.

He looks over to Wally again, and he wonders.

Their fourth meeting, Wally is a little more reclusive, a little more quiet. It’s clear he’s trying to hide it, but Dick catches moments where Wally’s paused, quiet, something obviously troubling him. Dick figures pushing won’t help, so he does his best to act naturally and cheer up the other.

Something else bothers him, though, and it’s not until he gets home that he realises - the bruises that have been appearing since he was a kid, the ones that only seemed to be getting worse, have stopped for about a week. _It’s a piece,_ his brain tells him. _Just fit it together._

By the fifth meeting, he’s confirmed it. He didn’t really mean to by this method, but a thug got a solid punch on his jaw, and he can’t help that he looks over to Wally to see the mark already appearing.

It confirms what he’s already been suspecting, at least. They’re soulmates. The definite realisation washes over him with a massive wave of relief, and excitement, because he’s finally found him.

He has to focus on the fight so he pushes it to the back of his mind, but even Wally asks if he’s knocked his head, because the _smiling is kind of weird, dude._

Still, he can't help the laughter bubbling from his lips. Wally shoots him a worried look, but they keep it together long enough to take down the group of thugs they're dealing with.

"Really, are you all good?" Wally asks, and Dick takes a moment to consider before he gestures to the part of his jaw where he got punched. He knows there's a mark there - he can see it on Wally, after all, and Wally winces sympathetically.

"No," Dick says, shaking his head. "No, it's not hurting. Just go look at your reflection."

Wally's eyebrows pinch together, but he goes to look anyway in a window, thankfully in an area lit enough that he can properly see. It takes him a moment to see it, but then he whirls back around to Dick as soon as he does.

"Hey, that's really weird, I didn't - Oh."

Dick was certain Wally would be okay about it - their friendship came so naturally, so easily, that he figures that anything following it should be just as easy. And Wally's eyes are wide, but there's a smile tugging at his lips.

And then Dick realises it the same moment Wally does. The bruises. Wally's stopped in his tracks, from where he's started to head over to Dick, frozen on the spot.

"Soulmates, huh?" Wally manages, but he's guarded now, wary. Dick feels a little out of his depth here, but does his best to keep it calm, smiling and shrugging his shoulders.

"Batman's gonna kill me for taking this long to work it out," Dick says, but he's not entirely sure if Bruce has figured it out either. Maybe he can pretend he always knew. Wally snorts, shaking his head.

"I mean our suits cover up most of our skin. And _you_! You seem to have a habit of getting hit on the stomach, what's with that?"

Dick laughs, and the tense air that had been building is beginning to disappear. "Not all of us can just run to the other side of the street in a millisecond to escape a kick, you realise?"

Wally rolls his eyes. "Slowpoke," he teases, but he's walking over to Dick now with a big, stupid smile on his face, and Dick's dumb, stupid heart is beating so loudly he's a little nervous it'll escape his chest.

And Dick wants to ask about the bruises, but something's still defensive in Wally's stance, and Dick knows it'll have to wait for another time. Time, he thinks, is something the two of them at least now have together.

 

* * *

 

_And he thinks about that, all those years later, and laughs at himself._

_Time is just something else Dick has to deal with alone._

 

* * *

 

When Wally does finally tell him, it's when they're both hanging out at the Manor, and Wally's watching as Dick does his best to beat the level of his latest game. They're taking turns, and Wally eventually tapped out after dying in the same spot ten times, getting sick of having to hear the same cutscene.

"I used to tell Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris that all those bruises were from you, you know," Wally says, and his tone is light like he's just talking about something casual, but Dick feels his whole body freeze.

He snaps back into it when his character is forced to dodge an attack. He chances a glance back at Wally, who's sitting on his bed, arms out behind him as he looks intently at the screen.

Dick wants to open his mouth and say _God, Wally, you didn't. Tell me you didn't._ But then closes his mouth and focuses partly on the game, mostly on what Wally will say next.

"Before I knew it was you, of course. But I uh, I should've put it together a little sooner. Turns out Bruce and Uncle B had already, back during our first meeting. I think Bruce knew before then, though, because I overheard them mention those lightning bolt marks you got."

Wally laughs, but it’s mirthless. "Turns out not a lot of kids get chemical burns like lightning bolts on their skin when trying to become the Flash, so. Not hard to piece together. Anyway, turns out Bruce told Uncle B about some of the bruises, who managed to rock up conveniently at a time when my dad was not the happiest with me."

Dick doesn't want to say he's sorry. He's not sorry that Barry found out, and got Wally out of that house, and he was indirectly the reason. But he is sorry that Wally - one of the smartest, brightest, most amazing person he knows - was ever in that position. However, the last thing Wally would want is pity.

So Dick gets past the part where Wally was stuck, and then hands the controller back to him. It takes Wally a few moments to realise he's got the controller now, but he smiles at Dick. A rare, small, warm smile that makes Dick's heart pound in his ears.

"Thanks, Dick," Wally says, and it's loaded with more than just gratitude for the controller. So Dick climbs up on the bed and wraps himself around Wally's back, and hopes it's enough for Wally to know how glad Dick is that they're together now.

 

* * *

 

The team actually takes longer to figure out they're soulmates than both of them bet on.

Well, Kaldur is definitely suspicious from the get-go, but the others? They take a while, surprisingly. Wally's faster-than-normal healing definitely helps, and Dick's gotten good at dodging most types of attacks and bruising. Still, they don't seem to piece it together, even in sparring or out on missions.

No, it takes Wally being distracted because Dick's standing shirtless at the beach. Wally trips on air, and goes down hard enough that he scrapes his hands up on the rocks he was unfortunately standing near.

"Oh, Wally! Your hands!" M'gann exclaims, but Wally brushes himself off and only takes a second to inspect his hands before shrugging.

"No sweat, it's nothing that bad, and they'll heal up soon,” he reassures, and looks like he's about to consider wiping his hands on his towel. Dick sighs, a hand coming up to rest on his forehead, because putting a towel like that on scratches like that will do nothing except get the fibres stuck in it. Artemis is standing beside him, and notices the movement.

"Ha, I'd almost assume he tripped because you're - _Wait_. Wait a second," she fumbles with the rest of her sentence, and suddenly goes to grab his hands. She overturns them, looking at the marks that have appeared, and then at Wally's hands - who's, at least, decided wiping the blood on his board-shorts is a little less of a tragic idea.

They're not bad, Wally was right, just light scrapes at the skin that'll take less than a day to completely heal from both of them. Artemis can't stop looking between them, and her eyes narrow at him.

"That's not a coincidence, is it?" She asks, dropping his hands. He laughs, shaking his head.

"God, two weeks earlier and you would've won me the bet. Wally thought you were onto us pretty much immediately."

"Well, it's not like you're an open book," she huffs, but it's in good nature. Still, a smile begins to show on her face. "You two, though. Now that's cute."

"If you're talking about Rob being cute, I'd like to say I'm the president of Robin is cute club,"  Wally suddenly pipes up, M'gann and Connor following behind him. Kaldur's already near the water, but he's looking back at them as they group together.

"Oh my _god_ ," Artemis says, long and drawn-out, and he snickers. "It's not even subtle."

"What's not subtle?" M'gann asks, glancing between them, and Artemis throws her hands up before gesturing between Wally and Dick.

"Those two! They're soulmates!" She declares, and Kaldur's officially come up to them now, raising an eyebrow at them.

Connor just shrugs it off, and Dick's not entirely sure anyone's actually explained the concept to him. M'ganns eyes are wide and excited, and she's gushing how _of course, it makes total sense!_ And Kaldur's now got his arms folded, looking between them critically.

"Uh," Dick says, "sorry for not telling you, but we kind of had a bet going on it."

Wally's shoulders are slumped. "And none of you got it!"

"What were the bets?" Connor asks, curious now.

"I thought you guys would take a couple months, but you're all two weeks out of my range. And Wally thought even sooner than that," Dick sighs, shaking his head in mock-disappointment.

"Well, I knew about it," Kaldur offers, and Wally immediately pounces on that.

"When, Kaldur, _when_ did you know? Please, my honour depends on this," Wally begs, and Kaldur gives him a confused look.

"Back at Cadmus," he answers, and Wally is cheering and hugging Kaldur before grabbing Dick's hands - and yeah, gross, because the scrapes are still there and Dick's sure they're stinging, but Wally's too excited to notice.

"That means he counts for my bet! Meaning you get to treat me to A's pancakes," Wally declares happily, and Dick does his best to act disgruntled, rolling his eyes and sighing, but he can't help the smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah, yeah, alright alright, I'll count it," he relents, and Wally cheers before giving him a cheeky kiss on the cheek, and Dick laughs and shoves him off.

"Oh my god," Artemis repeats, "how they hell did we not figure this out sooner?"

* * *

 

Dick has an apartment back in Bludhaven, but he's been staying back at the Manor while Bruce was off-world. He wanted to watch over Tim mostly, and Alfred appreciates the company. He means to go back to his apartment, now that Bruce is back, but the thought of Wally's things still all over his apartment make him want to throw up.

Bruce offers a place to stay at the Manor for as long as he needs it, and while it's a nice suggestion, the tone is more a command. Dick wants to fight it, because Bruce is home now, and Dick's got to clean up his apartment, and he just wants to be alone, maybe. All he knows is that his world is barely hanging on axis, his heart is beating too hard, and there's a pit so wide in his chest he doesn't think he can breathe properly ever again.

Tim steps up beside Dick, grabbing his hand. "Dick, come home, okay? Even if it's just for tonight."

And Dick's barely keeping it together, so he just nods and lets the two of them lead him back. He feels numb, like his body is just some other entity being controlled by someone else entirely, and his mind is just repeatedly going over his last few interactions with Wally.

The worst part is, all he can remember is how furious Wally was. When he pushed him back into the chair, angrily throwing his arms around as he yelled at Dick for being careless, for putting his life at risk just for the mission.

And Wally had been staying back at his own place the last few nights, too angry to come over to Dick's apartment like he usually does. It had hurt, but Dick had understood, and he figured they could talk it out once the whole invasion was over. They would talk it over, and forgive each other, because that's what they always did.

But now they can't, and Dick won't get the chance to ever properly say how sorry he is to Wally's face. God - he won't even get the chance at the funeral, because Wally's just gone. Into nothing. Like he never existed in the first place.

He lets out a heavy breath as the pull up to the Manor, and Dick avoids Tim's worried gaze, and Bruce's ever steady one by immediately ducking into his old room.

Which is where he is now, still curled up on his bathroom's floor, fingers digging into his arms. He's letting out choked sobs, knees pulled into his chest. He's really not sure how long he's there, but there's a knock at his door at one point, which he ignores.

The knocking, though, brings him out of his head a little. He tries to remember how to breathe properly, to try and push away the memories of how angry Wally was with the better ones, with the way he was smiling when he was back in the fight, the smaller, private one with Dick when they thought it was over.

But he can't stop remembering the Arctic, the way Wally had gone for his last run. He hadn't hesitated, and Dick knows at the end of the day that's what saved them all, but he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

Well, not to his face. He remembers now, Barry coming up to him, putting his hand on his shoulder, and saying " _He wanted to say he's sorry, and that he loves you."_

"Jesus Christ, Wally," he manages to choke out, the knowledge that Wally had said sorry at the end, and Dick can't say it back, or even say I love you in return suddenly weighs on him.

" _Fuck_ ," he mutters, over and over, because this is just like his parents all over again, just like Jason - and he doesn't know if he can deal with this anymore. He's lost his parents, his brother, his fucking soulmate - this is it, he thinks, this is where his heart just gives up from all this grief, just stops because it can't go on anymore.

And it hurts, so much, because thinking about Wally in any way hurts. The way he smiles, his cheekiness, his love. It just hurts, and Dick doesn't know how to deal with it.

Eventually, though, he picks himself up. The headache pounding behind his eyes makes it hard to try and get up off the floor, but he figures he needs a drink of water or something at this point. Even if the thought makes him want to throw up.

 _Focus, Grayson,_ he tells himself. _Wally would kill you if he saw you like this._

His hands shake, because he's remembering the fact Wally always left cold bottle of water for him at night whenever he came back from patrol by the side of his bed, even when he's been asleep for hours, or when he left the apartment before Dick got back.

Focus. He tries to tell himself again. Come on, _focus_.

He splashes some water in his face, and kicks the suit further to the side petulantly. He puts on a loose shirt and some pants, leaving his suit on the floor of the bathroom. He doesn't want to think about Nightwing right now; Nightwing pushed for Kid Flash to be back on the field, pulled him out of retirement, got him killed in the end.

 _You're the same, it's no better with or without the suit,_ you _got him killed_ a voice in his head says, and he tells it to shut up, because he needs to separate them if he wants to do something as goddamn simple as breathing right now.

He opens the door to quiet halls. The grief in the house has always been stifling, but now it's pushing down on Dick like it wants to bury him seven feet under. The kitchen is quite a walk away, but it's clearing his head just a little by just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

Alfred's in the kitchen, despite the late hour. Dick gives him a weak wave, but tries not to meet his eyes.

"Hot chocolate, perhaps, sir?" Alfred asks, and Dick shakes his head, moving towards the cabinets to get himself a glass.

"Just water, Al," he says, and his voice is hoarse and awful, but it doesn't bother him in Alfred's presence.

He fills it up with tap water, and while Alfred is definitely giving him a look at that, it's a hundred times better than Bludhaven's tap water, so he's not fussed.

He leans against the counter, just focusing on taking slow sips. His throat still feels closed up, and his cheeks and eyes are definitely puffy, and overall he just feels awful. He figures it's a fair thing to feel.

"I am sorry to hear about Master Wallace," Alfred pipes up, and Dick can tell his hands are shaking again. No one's really said it, yet, because he hasn't given them the chance.

"Yeah," he manages to say, and is surprised at how airy it sounds considering it doesn't feel like he's breathing properly.

"I think it would be best if you sit down, perhaps," Alfred suggests, and Dick feels like he wants to snap, because he's not precious, he's not going to fall down - but. But his knees are beginning to shake, and his hands are definitely still trembling, and he's not entirely convinced. He nods instead, walking out to the dining hall to sit at a chair.

It's quieter in here, and it presses down more on him, but Alfred's presence is a grounding, welcoming one. They sit in silence for a bit, until finally Alfred shifts on his feet, indicating he's about to speak.

"I don't believe you should blame yourself for this," he says, and Dick immediately turns to look at him, mouth already opening to protest. Alfred holds up a hand, indicating Dick to wait.

"At his heart, Master Wallace was always a hero. Whether he was suited up as Kid Flash or not. He did what he had to do, because that's who he is. And I daresay, sir, that he did enjoy being back out in the field."

"He was retired, Al," Dick sighs. "He was going to go back into retirement once the invasion was over. It's just that now he won't get the chance."

His voice breaks on the last word, and he looks away. Alfred takes a seat as well, beside him. Reaches out to place his hand on Dick's shoulder.

"I don't think he ever blamed you, and I don't believe he'd approve of you blaming yourself now either. He would want you to be... should I say proud? Proud, I think. He only did what a hero is supposed to do."

Dick folds forward at the table, putting his elbows on - and if this was any other night, Alfred would give him a stern look. As it is, he lets Dick fold his head down into his laced hands, and just remember what it is to breathe.

"I know," Dick says, "but it's not fair. He was nearly finished with college, we were going to get a dog, we were going to move into together properly. He still has - had, he still had so much to do. We had so much to do, together. He wasn't even meant to be back in the field, not like this. God, not like this."

Alfred puts his hand on his back, in the space between his shoulder blades. "If not then, then when? He did save the world, after all. But I must agree, it is not fair at all."

Dick lets out a shaky breath, and his fingers run over his face, over the back of his head, until he's staring intently down at the table. The silence is bearing down on him again, but it's just a little less suffocating than before with Alfred beside him.

It's maybe half an hour later when Alfred speaks up. "Usually, Master Tim comes down around this time for hot chocolate when he's not on patrol. Are you sure you wouldn't like some?"

Dick takes a moment to think about it. He hasn't eaten today, not really, and his stomach growls for him in answer. He huffs, the attempted laugh not quite working, and looks at Alfred. "Could you, uh, make mine with whipped cream? And..."

Marshmallows, and chocolate flakes sprinkled on top, just like Wally has (had) his. Dick's is usually just plain hot chocolate, but Alfred learned quickly that Wally enjoyed every topping ever on whatever it is he could consume.

Alfred knows where he's going with it, and goes to stand up. "Of course, Master Richard."

"Thanks," he mutters weakly, looking up to give Alfred a grateful smile before returning to looking down at the table.

Tim's footsteps are louder than usual, meaning he wants Dick to hear him. It's considerate, but Dick can hear him regardless usually, and it only serves right now to remind him that everyone's just treading glass around him.

It's fair he reasons, considering he feels like he's made of it.

Tim takes the seat across from him, and Dick knows he looks like a mess. He does his best to hold up for Tim, especially after Jason, but he just doesn't have the energy to do so tonight.

"They'll give him a memorial," Tim says quietly. "Mount Justice's was destroyed, so Bruce was talking about moving them to the Watchtower."

Dick's fingers clench, but he forces himself to relax. He can't unload on Tim what he's thinking - that Wally deserves more, after everything, than just being quietly mourned by only the League. Only those that really knew him. But, like Jason, they'll keep it secret.

And Wally mentioned giving the mantle to Bart, after everything, and Dick knows the younger will pick it up. Will make Wally proud. But to the rest of the world, it'll just be Kid Flash coming back after hiatus. They won't wonder, if they even figure it out, that the previous one is now gone forever.

Dick nods instead, because he knows Wally's going to end up as just another projection in the memorial room. Another ghost to haunt him.

Alfred walks back in with their drinks, and the sickeningly sweet creation in front of him makes Dick's stomach turn. Memories flash by - Wally and the cream mustache he always got, Wally reaching across and trying to slather Dick's own face with a dollop of it, making Dick get marshmallows in his own just so he could steal them.

His hands circle around it, and the two of them thank Alfred, who nods and leaves the two of them alone. Honestly, Dick doesn't know how he's meant to eat this without making a mess, but Tim gets up and comes back a few moments later with a spoon, passing it over.

It certainly makes getting through the whipped cream easier, and a lot less messier. Dick can see that Tim wants to say something, but he's holding it back, and Dick sighs.

"What?" He asks, voice jarringly loud in the silence, and Tim barely restrains the jolt in surprise.

Tim takes a deep breath, setting his hot chocolate down. "Did you guys make up?"

Dick lets out something close to a laugh again. "I don't know. He apparently said he's sorry, but I can't say it back, so. There's that, I guess."

"He knew it," Tim replies, and Dick freezes with a spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Knew it?"

"That you were sorry. He forgave you already."

The use of past tense is the most jarring thing, maybe. Wally's a past tense now - everything he was, everything going forward now. Dick hums, showing that he's heard Tim, but it doesn't mean he's really listening. How can Wally have forgiven him, after all this?

 

* * *

 

He's scrolling through the photos of the last marks Wally left on his skin - and maybe it's not the best idea to do that in the dining hall, but his room was getting a little suffocating - when Bruce walks in. It's the day of the funeral, and Dick's done his best recently to help with all the arrangements, but there's only so much he can take.

He walks up behind him, and Dick does his best to lock the phone in time, but judging by the slight furrow in Bruce's brows, he saw the photos.

"They uh," Dick fumbles, "they only lasted a couple hours."

Bruce nods, and Dick can see the other's sympathy. Bruce has been here before, along with Dick, staring into the abyss that grief leaves them facing.

"We should head over," Bruce says, and Dick nods. He doesn't know if he can, but his feet are moving regardless, pushing the chair back and standing up. Bruce leads him down to the car, where Tim is standing and waiting.

They Zeta it to Central, where Bruce has a car waiting for them to take them to the funeral home. They're a little earlier than everyone else, because Dick offered to help out Iris and Barry with it, and he has to try and compartmentalise it all because all their grief combined is knee-buckling.

_It's a job. It's a mission, it's just a mission. You have to help Iris and Barry, you just have to get through this much. For them, at least. For Wally._

They both hug him when they spot him, and then they hug Bruce - which, usually, the man is at the least very uncomfortable, but seems okay about it. Iris waves him inside, where she leads him through what's happening.

There'll be the speeches, a slideshow, and a moment of silence. For a hero, Iris says, even though they agreed to keep all hero-related business out of the funeral as Wally has family members and friends from college that don't know about his other identity.

There'll be another small memorial for the heroes, just so they can recount their favourite hero stories with Wally. Dick opted out of those speeches, because he doesn't think he'll be able to make it through it.

Dick takes notice of the photos they've used. Wally graduating high school, a younger photo with the team in normal civilian clothes (and M'gann with caucasian skin), a photo with Barry and Iris, and then a photo with Dick. He remembers the moment - he'd come over to celebrate Wally getting into Stanford, and Wally had been so excited he raced over and kissed Dick so enthusiastically that Dick had almost fallen backwards.

Iris had managed to capture the moment, and it looks so vibrant and full of life that Dick has to remember that Wally's gone, that he's no longer able to create any more memories with him here.

"I hope you don't mind," Iris speaks up, noticing what he's staring at. "I thought he couldn't be any happier that day, and then he saw you. He was always happiest with you."

"I don't mind at all," he says quietly, because any louder his voice is going to break. Iris puts a hand on his arm, and then leads him back past the pews into the foyer. People are beginning to turn up, and Dick greets them all with small smiles and kind eyes when they tell them they're sorry for his loss. He's done it before, with his parents, and then with Jason, and he's getting pretty good at it now.

Artemis comes up to him at one point and just hugs him. She doesn't say she's sorry, none of the team do, but they stand near him and give him supportive smiles, even as he stands up and has to do his speech.

He doesn't really remember it. He's had it written out for a couple of days, and he got the crowd to laugh a couple of times, which he knows is what Wally would have wanted. And by the time he steps down, he scans the room - and although most are crying, most give him small smiles as well. And he feels a little lighter for the first time since the day began.

Despite his persistence in treating this like a mission, like just something else he has to get through, he can't help but cry during Barry and Iris' speeches. Wally was their son, though adopted, and they adored and loved him more than anything.

And while Dick knows he shouldn't blame himself for it, he knows that he's the reason that they're facing this ultimate tragedy.

Despite crying silently in an attempt not to draw attention, Bruce puts a hand on his knee in support. When Iris and Barry walk by him, they hug him as well, and Dick doesn't know how he's meant to thank them for it.

They say they're cremating Wally to those that don't know the real reason he's gone, because it feels wrong to bury an empty casket. There's a bit of time at the foyer for people to mingle, more people coming up to Dick and expressing condolences, more guilt that just keeps building and building on top of him.

There's a chance it still hasn't really sunk in. He barely remembers most of it, and by the time he's somehow made it back to the Manor, he's not entirely sure how he got into his room.

"Jesus Christ, Wall," he sighs, taking off his suit and changing into pyjama pants. "I really, really need you right now."

* * *

 

Iris texts him a couple of days later, saying they're going to clean out his apartment. Dick just sits and stares at the text message for a long time before he asks what time he should come over.

Barry and Iris have boxed up some of it, but have left most of it untouched for Dick to go through. Dick's got a few of his things still thrown about the apartment: changes of clothes, a spare Nightwing suit hidden away, a phone charger because both of them have different plugs, headphones that are definitely his that Wally said he hasn't seen in his life.

He puts those in a box together, as well as some of his stuff from the bathroom. A spare toothbrush, shower wash, shampoo (which is definitely emptier than the last time he came over). They give him space, thankfully, to look around and be lost in his memories.

There's photos, civilian ones, framed and scattered around the place. There's one just of Dick, mid-laugh, by the side of his bed. There's one of the two of them on the fridge, when Dick had kissed Wally's cheek for Iris' camera. Another on his desk when they were younger, and Wally had fallen asleep on the couch in the cave, and Dick had laid ontop of him. M'gann had taken the photo, only after covering the two of them in a blanket.

There's a couple missing, some that Iris has taken. He takes the ones with the two of them, and the ones with the team, and then goes over to the bookshelf where he knows the photobook is for the team when they're suited up. He spends a while flicking through it, and Barry joins him at the table, laughing at a couple of the pictures.

Iris joins them at the table as well, and with her is a small black box that has Dick's heartrate up immediately.

"He told us where to find this a while ago, just in case. The back of the pantry, behind all the packets of two minute noodles," she laughs, but its watery. She pushes the box across the table, into Dick's reach.

"He was going to wait a few years, but you know how excited he gets," she explains as he opens it, and he can immediately feel tears welling up. He told himself he wouldn't cry today, but here it is - a ring, resting delicately inside the box. It's a simple black band, but there's a thin, dark blue line running through the middle of it.

"Yeah," he answers, mouth dry as he picks up the ring delicately, inspecting it properly. "When'd he get it?" It doesn't matter anyway now, he realises, but he wants to know regardless.

"A couple of months ago," Iris replies, and he nods, setting it back into the box.

"Thank you," he settles on, shutting the box. He isn't sure what to do with the ring just yet - wearing it feels wrong without Wally ever having proposed, and without ever having gotten the matching one.

"It's not your fault," Iris says, covering her hands with his. Her voice is serious, steady for the first time since she sat down, and he can barely bring himself to meet her eyes.

"Everyone's been telling me," he replies, and Barry sighs from beside him.

"Dick, Wally loved running. He loved being a hero. I think he retired because he was... scared, that he wasn't as fast as me. That he couldn't live up to the expectations that Flash had been setting. I told him over and over that it didn't matter, but he stepped back anyway." Barry's theory is one that Dick has certainly considered before. When Wally had told Dick he was retiring, he kept it vague: Tula was a big reason, realising life is short, and he needs to focus on his studies.

"If anyone's to blame, it's me, because I'm the one he tried to copy in the first place. And Bart and I weren't enough on our own out there. We should've slowed down sooner to help, but we didn't realise, not until it was too late."

It's a heavy burden that Barry's carrying, and he's sagging forward with it - but his eyes refuse to break from Dick's.

"If you need to blame anyone, then you blame me," Barry sternly tells him. Barry is very, very rarely so serious, and it surprises Dick - but Barry's always been serious when it comes to Wally.

"I can't do that," Dick says, shaking his head. "It's not your fault."

"Then it's not yours, either." Iris and Barry say it at the same time, and Dick just shakes his head, but doesn't argue it any further.

Packing up the rest takes a while. They all have moments where they need to step outside, or sit down and stare at an object that's heavy with memories. Dick ends up with a couple of boxes - his own stuff,, the photos, some clothes of Wally's that he liked to steal before, plus some others he knew Wally frequently wore.

He moves it all to his apartment, but doesn't stay there the night. He goes back to the Manor, and both Bruce and Tim are out on patrol. Alfred greets him with a plate of dinner, and he manages to eat half of it.

When Tim comes into his room later, he doesn't comment on the fact that Dick's wearing a hoodie that's clearly not his, the words "Stanford" printed on the front. Instead he just brings Dick a hot chocolate, and they sit in comfortable silence for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

Dick tells Tim he's taking a break from the team a day before Independence Day. He'll tell the League officially tomorrow, or the day after, as well as his old teammates. Tim's saddened, but ultimately understands, and tells him they'll wait for him.

Bruce understands too. He says he'll organise the rest of the team later, and tell them in case Dick doesn't want to.

Dick does, in the end. Tells Kaldur at the Watchtower, and it hurts, talking to him almost. Because all he does now is remind Dick of what once was, what he's lost. He can't keep being on the team, knowing it's something he made with Wally and Kaldur by his side.

He's lost too much already. He just needs a break. Just to get his head back together, to get his life together, to know where he stands now without Wally beside him.

He tells the team that he's taking a break while they're all gathered. They understand of course, and it's easy to hand the leadership over to Kaldur. Despite his deep undercover mission, he's certainly proven himself, and the rest of the team naturally follow him.

He pulls Bart aside at one point. The Kid Flash uniform looks good on him, and it takes all of Dick's willpower not to throw up when he looks at it. It's just - too much, right now.

But he focuses, because he's got a more important question to ask.

"Bart," he asks seriously. Bart's been more subdued, quieter, and the loss is weighing as heavily on him as any of the others. "Tell me about your time-travel."

But Bart gives him a look, one that looks so different to the Bart Allen he knows, that Dick's no longer sure if he knows him at all. He suspects that Bart is certainly not back here just for tourist reasons, and has pieced together that perhaps Barry wasn't meant to make it, but he's not going to question the kid. But now, that look is so haunting, that Dick is going to remember it for years to come.

"I'm sorry," Bart says sadly, shaking his head. He sounds broken up about it, and Dick just nods, pats him on the shoulder, and walks away.

 

* * *

 

Months pass, and though Dick still spends a couple nights a week at the Manor, he's mostly back at his place. He's put up Wally's pictures (he had his own copies, of course, but he feels a little better with Wally's hanging instead), and there's a jumper of Wally's he's worn to the point it no longer smells like him, so Dick's careful about his use of the rest of the jumpers.

He took to wearing clothes that usually showed his arms at first, in some naive hope that somehow, Wally would appear again. But as the weeks go by, and hope eventually extinguishes entirely, Dick takes to covering his skin as much as he can. He doesn't want to see his own bruises, _only_ his, the evidence that Wally really is gone.

Other than that, the break is going surprisingly okay. Barbara steps up to the plate for the team, as Dick knew she would, and Dick tries to focus on other things. He's not entirely sure what he wants to do, having graduated high school the previous year. College is on the table, and his grades could probably lend him to any college in the country, but he leaves the pamphlets closed on the table.

He looks into the police academy, and considers it might just work. He's about to apply, too, but then Barbara gets injured. Paralysed, waist down.

It's just another thing Dick feels guilty for.

Kaldur insists they can handle it, but Dick finds himself putting the suit back on anyway. It's hard, the first couple of times, but he figures maybe it was better Wally retired when he did. At least then Dick got some practice of being Nightwing without him.

Still, he catches a couple of times where he's gotten reliant on Wally. Moments where he expects a red and yellow blur to catch him, to save him, tackle him out of the way of danger. Bart sometimes does, when they're on the same squad, but more often than not, Dick pays for his mistake with bigger, worse bruises than ever.

Wally's not coming back, he has to remind himself, when he sees the bruises in the mirror on accident. _Get used to it._

 

* * *

 

 He hasn't been sleeping well.

Ghosts always haunt his dreams, but Wally's been appearing more and more recently. Sometimes even in dreams that aren't even about him, directly, but he flickers in and out in the corner of Dick's eye. Like a faulty hologram or something.

In the moments he wakes up, breathing heavily with sweat pouring down his face and back, he swears he can still see the blurry image of Wally for just a moment in the corner of his eyes. Everytime he turns to look, just that millisecond of hope - and of course, there's no one there.

"Just someone else come to haunt me, huh, Wall?" He mutters to the wall, groaning as he checks the time. It's 4am, and there's still a couple of hours until daylight. It's slowly getting colder, and it's possible it'll start snowing at some point this week.

He thinks that's what's bringing the dreams on - the bitter cold biting at his skin, at his face, only able to watch as Wally disappears before his eyes in the neverending field of white.

 _Get up, get moving, stop thinking about it._ He forces his legs over the bed, feet hitting the cold floors. He pushes up, heading to his small kitchen space to make himself some coffee. He won't be getting back to sleep anytime soon anyway.

When he goes to grab the milk, though, the light of the fridge shows what's on his skin. White, scarred, fading lightning strikes. They're so faint by the time Dick blinks again, they're gone, and he's left wondering if they were ever there at all.

He brushes it off as his mind just lingering on Wally, and gets the milk for the coffee.

Still, he looks at his arms carefully in the light of his kitchen properly. Looks at the photos of his phone, back from the day Wally died, and isn't sure what to make of it.

 

* * *

 

The dreams continue for months. Then, a year.

There's been a couple moments where he wakes up and thinks he sees the lightning on his skin, but it's gone before he can properly wrap his mind around it. He's chalked it up to his brain just being cruel, especially as it happens on the one-year anniversary.

It's a thought that stops him in his tracks. A whole year without Wally.

He's wondering what Wally would've been doing now. He would be graduating college next year, definitely with honours. Wally was one of the smartest, and would've been a shining graduate. They'd probably have all those photos together, Wally with a graduation cap and flowers and his certificate after all those years of hard work. Dick would've kissed his cheek, then kissed him, and then dip him backwards just for the fun of it.

Wally would've complained, and tried to ruffle Dick's hair, but Dick's got that little bit of height on him now that makes it harder. And the photos would be cute, and Wally would put them all at his bedside. They'd probably have moved in together by now, and maybe they'd have that dog.

He runs his hand over his face and tries to get ready for the day. Kaldur hasn't put him on any missions, probably purposely considering the date, but he's got some errands to run anyway. He needs groceries, and needs to fix up the leaking tap in his sink.

Artemis calls him while he's at the supermarket, and he sighs before he answers. They've taken to talking a lot, mostly to help deal with the loss of Wally, but he's not sure if he wants to talk today. Still, he finds himself answering.

"Hey Dick," she opens with, and he hums in reply.

"Morning Artemis," he replies. The shops have just opened, and it's thankfully quiet as he walks through the aisles. Wally helped teach him how to cook, and Dick's got a list of basic ingredients he needs.

"Are you out?" She asks.

"Yeah, shopping for food. Even Nightwing's gotta get groceries." He's going to make a joke that it's at least a lot cheaper without Wally eating out his entire kitchen, but his throat closes up before he can get it out.

"You know when you're just at the shops, and someone tries to rob the place or steal something really valuable? Like, can you imagine what they're thinking when a superhero takes them down for it? What shit luck," she laughs, and he grins. It’s unfortunately all too common in Gotham, and Bludhaven isn’t any better.

"Once, Bruce took me to the movies, and there was an attempted robbery. Bruce insisted on the suits and all," he recounts, and Artemis laughs even more.

"That poor guy," she says. "I mean, he totally deserved it, but like _damn_."

He thinks she's about to ask him how he's holding up and make him regret ever picking up. He's thankful she's checking up on him, and he probably should've texted her at least already, but he's not sure he can focus on the fact it's been a year today.

"So, tell me about what kind of food Nightwing makes," she surprises him, her tone light and casual, and he can't help but smile a little.

He recounts a lot of the recipes that Wally taught him, and finds that thinking about it doesn't hurt so badly now. He's still grieving for his loss, but he can think back on those memories with something akin to fondness.

When she goes to hang up, when Dick's getting back in his car, she farewells him by letting him know he's not alone, and he's got friends always there for him, and they'll see him back with the team in a couple days.

He finds the hole in his chest feels a little better. It's not closing, but - but maybe it's bandaged up now, carefully and considerately by others.

 

* * *

 

One night, the lightning on his arms stay. Well past the point of bleariness, mind properly awake and alert. And they’re still there.

On the nights he thinks he sees it, it's usually gone by the time he properly tries and focuses on it, and really just has it down to lingering dreams, lingering memories.

He blinks, once, twice. The marks are staying.

Fading, slowly, but they're there.

He scrambles out of his sheets and across the room to his bedside light, and he lets out a noise of surprise. A choked off gasp, sort of, and he tries to remember how to breathe.

It's there. It's definitely there, he's not just dreaming.

He quickly moves to his phone, pulling up the camera and taking photos of it. They're barely visible, but at certain angles the marks are definitely there.

His mind is racing, running through possibilities.

And there's one that he keeps coming back to, no matter how badly it hurts. Wally's _alive_.

But to believe in it is one thing. If he starts down this road, if there's really a chance he's alive, then Dick is going to have to accept all the consequences of however it ends. To go from grieving a dead loved one, to that all-consuming burning desire to just try and find the truth.

He knows he has to deal with this. No matter how it ends - if Wally is alive, he may be unreachable, somewhere just too far for him to ever reach again. Still, he can't ignore this now, can't just leave Wally.

He's already left him for too long, and a bitter, twisting inner rage builds up at the thought of all the times he just brushed off those lightning strikes on his skin as dreams.

"Fuck, Wally," he mutters to himself, as he opens up the contact for Barbara. It's still really early in the morning, but Barbara has a habit of starting her days early anyway. He forwards the photos to her, with a short "these appeared on my skin five minutes ago."

Then, he sends forward one of the photos of the day Wally died (disappeared?), explaining it.

A minute later, Barbara is calling him.

"I'm going to assume you know that they're from Wally," she opens with. He takes a deep breath, because this is it. Barbara knows now, this is it, he's opening up the possibility that Wally really isn't dead. He can't keep it to himself, brush it off as just more dreams, more ghosts to haunt him.

"Yeah. They appeared the day in the Arctic, and I think they've appeared a couple of other times as well. They're gone by the time I can convince myself they're real when I wake up, but today they stayed just a little longer."

She lets out a low whistle. "Well, I know the League has been keeping up with monitoring the activity in that area, just in case."

For some of the League, it's just in case there's any activity with the chrysalis. For others, it's just in case Wally somehow reappears.

"Anything noteworthy?" He sits down heavily on his bed, looking at the photo that he put on his bedside, the one of the two of them kissing.

"Give me a second to check," she says, and he can hear her moving around.

"Sorry for waking you," he apologises, realising it is just a little earlier than her usual time. She clicks her tongue at him, a warning.

"Don't you dare apologise. I would've been mad if you waited," she tells him, and he huffs.

"Still. It's early." His gaze moves from the photo to the clock. "Trust the idiot to try and do whatever it is he's doing at some stupid time in the morning."

"He knows you well," she laughs, but there's something sad in it too. She begins to hum under her breath, meaning she's working on accessing the database.

"Oh, that's interesting." Dick waits until she's checked out more of whatever it is, telling his heart to calm the hell down.

"There was... a storm, it looks like? It's giving off the same reading as lightning strikes, the same kind of energy. About fifteen minutes ago," She continues. "Wait, do you remember the other times you could see the marks? The dates?"

"Uh, one a few months ago. On the one year anniversary. The times before then, no, I don't remember," he thinks back, but the incidents have maybe happened less than five times in total, and the only standout is how badly it threw him off on the one-year. All the others were random incidents.

She acknowledges him, then he waits in silence as she looks into it. He probably could have looked into it himself, but having Barbara do it means it's a lot more objective, looking at the evidence with a much clearer, focused head than he ever could have regarding anything to do with the Arctic. Or Wally, for that matter.

"There's a similar reading, around 5:45am. Sound right?" She asks carefully, and he does his best to think back.

"Yeah, yeah it does," he finally says, and he's not going to let his hopes get up, he's not. He won't be able to handle it if it turns out to be nothing but more heartache.

"Okay," she replies with, and then takes a deep breath. "Dick, this could mean anything. We know the energy siphoned off Wally, and Barry says he faded away. We don't actually know what happened, not properly."

She sighs, and he knows he has to brace himself. Barbara's always been good at delivering facts to him objectively, and knows he has to accept whatever it is she's going to say next.

"He could just have... become energy, in a sense. Thunderstorms aren't really a thing in the Arctic, but the chrysalis could have affected that. If that's the case, the lightning is just striking where the energy is. It's very possible Wally's not actually alive, in a physical sense."

"Don't worry," he eventually settles on saying, pressing his fingers into his closed eyelids. "I'm not going into this optimistically. Listen, can you just try and see if you can find out anything else? Try and keep it down low, we don't need anyone catching wind of this, we don't need to get people's hopes up in case it's nothing."

"Yeah, I can do that. But Dick, you're sure about this?"

"No turning back now. I'll message you if anything else appears." The marks have basically disappeared now, but there's something else settling under his skin - a new type of energy, new determination.

"Alright, I'll keep you updated with anything I find." With that, they say goodbye and hang up.

The phone shows him the text messages, the photos that show the marks on his skin. Tells himself that hoping is pointless, it'll only lead to more pain.

But Dick's always been a bit more optimistic, despite everything. Despite his mind screaming that this will only lead to more grief than he can handle.

* * *

 

There hasn't been anything to update with for a month or so.

Barbara relays that none of the unusual storms hit the other areas where the devices where, but none of those went chrysalis either. Scientists don't really have an explanation for the storms either, but seem to chalk it down to something else to blame the invaders for.

Well, at least they're not wrong.

They've kept it between themselves for now. Tim's suspecting he's up to something, calling him a little distracted, but seems to know to leave it alone. Barbara is good enough to cover her traces, so not even Tim can follow them.

Still, it's an accident when Artemis finds out.  She's invited him over for dinner - well, she's invited the whole ‘old’ team, and it's a thing now that they get together at least monthly to share dinner. It's ridiculously domestic and calm, despite everything, but Dick looks forward to these nights.

He's helping with some of the cooking, because thanks to Wally's teaching he's ended up as one of the better cooks. M'gann's certainly gotten better, but he figures she does it enough, and forces her to sit down.

He goes to take a bowl out of Artemis' hands, and it's only because he's trained so much in his reflexes that he grips the bowl tighter instead of letting it drop when he sees the lightning marks on his skin.

They definitely weren't there a moment ago, and right now they're dark, easily visible, and only getting clearer.

Artemis notices them as well, eyes widening as she realises they're getting darker. They look almost red, like freshly scratched marks, and he quickly puts the bowl on the counter before examining them.

"Shit," he says, and then reaches into his back pocket for his phone, taking a photo of his arm and sending it forward to Barbara, who messages him in the exact same minute to say activity's spiking again.

"Is... is that...?" Artemis trails off quietly, stepping closer to see them better.

"I'm not sure," he replies. He's not sure if it's Wally, or if it's just the energy left of him. "It's only happened a few times, and it's got something to do with the Arctic, but... We're not sure."

"We?"

"Only Babs knows. I didn't want to get hopes up," he replies, and she closes her eyes. Artemis is good at focusing on objectives as well, when the time calls for it, and he can see her trying.

"How long?" She asks, and hides they way her hands are beginning to shake by getting back to frying.

"Only noticed them properly about a month ago. But... I think it's been happening for a while."

"How many times have you seen them?"

"The day it happened, and maybe five times since then. And..." He trails off, realising something. He also saw them the day that Wally got his powers. "Shit. Shit, hang on."

He sends a text to Barbara, telling her to look into the date and time Wally got his powers. He thought he'd mentioned it already to her, but thinking back on it he hasn't brought it up.

"What?" Artemis asks, once Dick's sent the message and is waiting for a reply. "What did you just realise?"

"They also appeared the day Wally got his speed. It could mean nothing, but.... If they're the same kind of incident, then maybe. _Maybe_ , Wally's not dead."

Artemis lets out a long breath. "If he's not dead, then where is he?"

"I... I'm not sure. It might just be the energy of him, in a sense, that's just reacting with the unusual weather. I don't know enough about Wally's speed to theorise properly. But... Barry might."

And God, it's stupid, because he can feel his hopes rising. If he can just make the connection, if he can just figure it out - then maybe Wally really isn't gone. Maybe he can come back.

"This might not end like we want it to," Artemis warns, and Dick takes a moment to close his eyes, makes sure he controls his breathing. He shouldn't get angry at Artemis - she's only saying the truth, after all. Speaking logically, telling Dick the same thing he’s been telling himself all this time. But he realises something as Artemis says it.

"The worst-case scenario has _happened_ , Artemis," he says shortly. "Wally died, and I have been living with that for a year and a half. Even if nothing comes from this, then it's just the same as before. There is no worst-case scenario ending here, because I'm already starting from it."

"I know," she answers after a moment. "We all are. Should we tell the others, or do you think Con's been overlistening anyway?"

Dick sighs. "I'm going to assume so. We're taking too long in here." His phone dings with a message, and he looks down to see that Barbara's sent a text, and an image that shows the activity. The time Wally got his powers, the time Dick got the marks, shows the same energy in the area. "They deserve to know anyway."

They walk back in with the food and Dick's marks are almost completely gone again, Connor's staring at them, and he definitely knows. M'ganns probably picked up on their emotions, and Kaldur and Zatanna have certainly clued into the fact something's up.

Still, they sit down, and do their best to make casual conversation. It usually leads back to the team, any worries or concerns or accomplishments. Relocating hasn't been easy, especially not with permanent residents that lost everything in the cave, but they're doing okay now.

Artemis nudges him, and he knows he's delayed enough. He pushes his plate away, which gets their attention.

"So, Barbara and I have been looking into something for the last month. The day Wally got his powers, lightning marks appeared on my skin. They day he disappeared, they appeared again. Since then, they've appeared a few more times, and at first I thought they were just my imagination, until about a month ago I realised they weren't."

They're all focused on him, trying to understand where he's going with this. Some of them are working it out, eyes wide and hopeful. "Most recently, five minutes ago. Artemis saw them." He pulls up the photo, pushing the phone to the middle of the table for them all to see.

He continues to explain the storm activities, and then squares his shoulders back. "Realistically, it could just be the energy left acting up, and Wally's not alive. It could just be what’s left, creating the storms or just being reactive to them. However, idealistically, Wally could be retrievable."

He hasn't really thought about it properly. The chance that Wally can come back - but it hits him now, surrounded by the others. The memories where Wally sat beside him at dinners like this, occasionally stealing from his plate and making up for it with a kiss on the cheek. Bantering with Artemis and Connor, speaking to M'gann about recipes, bonding with Kaldur about shitty fathers, and even asking for Zatanna's opinions on magic.

It's a lot, suddenly. He really, really misses Wally.

Artemis slides the phone back to him, then places her hand on top of his. "Hey, no matter what, we'll help you. If Wally's out there, we'll get him back."

The others all chime in as well, and Dick finds that he's smiling despite how much he's missing Wally right now.

"Yeah. Yeah, we'll get him back."

* * *

 

He talks alone to Iris first.

Mostly because he doesn't know if he wants to give Barry an idea of what's happening - the man is single-minded in his determination, and all too optimistic, and his vision only narrows when it comes to Wally. He's a force to be reckoned with, but Dick doesn't want him running himself to the ground in case he's wrong about all of this.

"Did you ever get lightning marks?" He asks her, when they're both sat at her dining table. There's a cup of tea and biscuits in front of him, some of Wally's favourites, and he finds himself pinching one because it always used to annoy Wally when he did.

Iris is a very, very smart woman, and it doesn't surprise Dick that she's suspicious.

"When Wally got his powers, I got these marks all over my body. Like chemical burns, just in lightning bolt patterns," he explains, but doesn't trail further into why he's asking about it.

Iris looks down at his arms like she can imagine them there.

"I have, actually. Only twice. When Barry got his, and - there was another time, but when I asked Barry about it, he refused to tell me about the mission." She hums unhappily, and Dick furrows his eyebrows.

"Do you remember what date it was?" He asks. "What the mission was for?"

She just shakes her head. "I'm sorry Dick, it was a couple of years ago now, but he didn't tell me anything."

He nods, finishing the biscuit and letting the silence settle over them.

 

* * *

 

He decides to forgo talking to Barry. The man is great, and probably would tell him what he wants to know, but Dick's still not certain about letting him know. Just in case.

Instead, he goes to Bruce.

He goes to the Manor, because while the Watchtower is secure, it's just a little bit easier for people to eavesdrop there. There’s still a couple of hours until they start patrol, and Dick figures that's the best time to talk to him.

Alfred welcomes him in warmly, and Tim shoots him a confused look when he passes by him, but greets him with a hug regardless.

"Where's Bruce?" He asks, and Tim gestures to the grandfather clock.

"He's been down there for a bit," Tim answers, and Dick thanks him before heading down to the Batcave.

Bruce is sitting in front of the monitors, rewatching a mission from the last week. He clears his throat as he steps up, and Bruce pauses the monitor to turn his chair.

Neither of them are really any good at smalltalk. So, Dick gets right into it - besides, he's getting anxious, an unsettling feeling of needing to be as fast as he can, to try and figure this whole thing out as soon as possible. There’s a timer ticking down in the corner of his mind, pushing him to figure it all out.

 _This is how Wally felt all the time then_ , he thinks to himself.

"There was a mission with Flash, a couple of years back. Was there anything weird, any weird storms? Lightning strikes, particularly."

Bruce frowns at him, leaning forward. "What is this for, Dick?"

Dick knows the other is worried he's just chasing at ghosts, going to run straight into a dead-end (“literally” he can hear Wally’ voice joke in his head), but there's a chance Wally isn't just a ghost.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what I asked about. Any strange incidents, maybe he got struck by lightning?" Dick presses, because if Bruce doesn't agree with Dick's theory then he's going to reveal nothing.

Bruce tilts his head considerately, then turns back to the monitors. He types in something, and Dick steps up to the platform to watch closer.

"I've only seen it happen once," Bruce says, and the footage isn't great - just a security camera that's grainy and awful, and zooming in does not help anything. "He seemed shaken, though. Something happened, more than what we can see."

For Bruce to say Barry was shaken, nervous by whatever happened, it's a big deal. Barry doesn't really show his nerves, doesn't let a fight get the best of him. The man is light-hearted, and hard to scare.

The footage shows Barry running, and while Bruce has slowed it down enough for them to be able to watch him actually run, Dick is sure he's never seen Barry go this fast.

The camera barely catches it, it's so quick, but there's a bolt of lightning striking Barry. A couple before he suddenly... disappears.

Bruce switches the camera, showing that he reappears less than five seconds later. It takes Dick a moment to realise that the lightning is no longer coming down and striking him, but actually coming from him, streaking behind him.

"That's definitely different," Dick finally settles on saying, because while the camera quality is pretty awful, it's clear this is a move that Barry has never done before, nor one he's repeated.

"That was as fast as he's ever run," Bruce explains, affirming Dick's thoughts. "We asked, but he said he didn't know what happened. He was lying, and he's never let himself get to that speed again."

In those couple of seconds, where did Barry go? He's broken the speed barrier, the light barrier, and Dick would argue maybe he broke the time barrier at that point. But there's something in his gut telling him that's not it. That's not the answer he needs.

"So, what is this about?" Bruce asks, shutting the monitor down, and Dick finally tells him. It comes out rushed, because he can barely focus on keeping the story cohesive,distracted trying to think about just how to fit the puzzle pieces together.

"I think wherever Barry went," Dick says once he's sorted out his thoughts, once they're silent with the finality of his theory, "that's where Wally is."

"Wally didn't reach those speeds," Bruce points out, and Dick nods, already knowing this. He goes up to the monitor properly, pulling up the date of the footage of Barry, and then looking into the energy sources around at the time. Barbara, thankfully, taught him just what to look for.

"He didn't, but I think the chrysalis might have done something connected to... wherever it is Barry went. Look, they read the exact same. The day Wally disappeared, and the day Barry did for those few moments. And then the times the lightning marks appear on me."

Bruce looks over it carefully, then settles back into the chair. "Do you know if the storm is caused by the energy, or if the storm causes the energy?"

"I don't know." Which is the most frustrating part, because the marks appear at random. There's no cause he can figure out, no reason. It's just another goddamn missing puzzle piece.

"And you haven't told Barry."

"No," Dick sighs. "If I told him, he'd never stop."

"You haven't stopped."

Dick shakes his head. "I did. I ignored it for too long, and now whatever's happening has been going on for too long already. If Wally's really there, somehow, then I've left him there for nearly two years." He laughs bitterly at himself. "I only started in the last month. Bruce, I stopped the moment I thought he was dead."

"If you really did stop, you would have ignored the marks entirely. Denial and grief are powerful, and all-consuming. Considering how few and far apart these instances are, you figured it out fast."

 _He's trying to comfort me,_ Dick figures, and the realisation settles and soothes a little bit of the anxiety burning under his skin.

Bruce turns back to the monitor, zooming into the data on the one-year anniversary lightning storm. Dick can see him piecing something together, and he sits back as he watches Bruce work on it.

Bruce gets Barbara to forward through her work as well, and Dick can see she's looking into the separate incidents by finding similar or identical patterns in energy. Barbara's narrowed down the timeframes, has a few dates she's highlighted, but then Bruce leans forward and points.

"See this one?" He asks, pointing to a storm earlier in the year. "That is the same date you and Wally met."

The anniversary of Wally's death was something Dick had pinned down to a coincidence, but he can immediately place the pattern now. Barbara's marked a few important dates: when Dick and Wally met, when they figured out they were soulmates, the date Wally was adopted by Barry and Iris.

"It's Wally," Dick breathes out in disbelief. "Bruce, it has to be."

Bruce sits back again, and looks at Dick properly. Dick knows he looks a little wild, a little haunted, but there's hope bristling into his chest, and try as he might to stop it, the dates are glowing too brightly in the dark room, lighting him with hope.

"I think it's time we call Barry."

 

* * *

 

They decide to meet Barry at the Watchtower the next day. Dick barely got any sleep, too restless with the thought that Wally's really been here somehow, still. Maybe choosing those dates purposely to tell Dick he was still out there.

God, nearly two years already.  

Barry's barely containing his anxiety at being asked to meet with them, his hand blurring a little as he waves at them. "Hey guys, you called?"

"It's to do with Wally," Bruce immediately starts, and Dick resists the urge to sigh, because there goes his careful planning and thoughts of how to go about this conversation.

Barry freezes in place, smile fading immediately. "What about Wally?"

Dick's glad that Bruce has secured the room in the Watchtower to just them, otherwise there'd certainly be a crowd gathering at the tone in Barry's voice.

"There's a chance he's not completely gone," Bruce explains, and Dick sees the way Barry's shoulders hunch, even for just that split second - it's a lot, to have someone rip open a healing wound after all.

Dick steps in before Barry asks. "There's been unusual energy in the Arctic, like lightning storms. Lightning marks have been appearing on my skin, and both the energy and marks only seem to have happened on significant dates in Wally's life."

Barry pushes his cowl back, and while the man has certainly lost a bit of spark since Wally's disappearance, it's easy now to see just how badly the man is dealing with the loss. His eyes are sharp and hard as he glances at Dick.

"Do you know anything else?" He asks, and Dick knows why - it's not a lot to get hopes up, to entertain the idea that Wally's out there.

"They're the same energy patterns as the day you disappeared for a few seconds. When you went the fastest you've ever been," Bruce replies, and Barry lets out a deep breath, collapsing on the chair behind him.

"So you think he's there," he mutters, and then hangs his head in his hands. "God, all that time. All that time, and I didn't think about it."

"What is that place, Barry?" Bruce asks, pushing his cowl back as well now. "Where did you go?"

"I... I'm not sure. It's like just this big, endless field of energy, and everything rushes by so fast and you can't slow down. I could see my whole life going by, and I was barely able to escape," he explains, hands moving about animatedly as he speaks. His eyes widen when he seems to realise something, looking at Dick. "And because Wally didn't reach the speeds I did to end up there, you're thinking that the chrysalis had something to do with it."

"It's a theory." Bruce puts a hand on Barry's shoulder. "If there's a way to get him back, we'll find it."

"Any ideas so far?"

"We should head to the Arctic, see if we can find anything," Bruce says, and Dick barely stops himself from giving Bruce a confused look. Bruce would know if there's anything worth searching for and he'd specifically mention it, so would only suggest it if he was positive about something, or trying to test something.

Bruce moves to put his cowl back on, then glances back at Barry. "Do you want to meet us there, or ride with us in the jet?"

Barry gets up and stretches, giving him a smile that fools no one. "It might be good to stretch my legs, give myself some time to think. Race you!"

And with that he's off, and Bruce doesn't even sigh at the parting words. Just leads Dick back out, and Dick waits until they've Zeta'd back to Earth and get onto the jet that he turns to Bruce.

"You have an idea," he states, and Bruce plays with the controls for a couple of moments before answering.

"I do. I just think it'd work better in the Arctic, and I didn't want to tell Barry until we got there. As long as the energy field that Barry described isn't personal to each speedster, Barry might be able to find him."

The whole plan relies on this - that this energy field is where Wally's ended up, is where Barry's been before and can run to again. Hopefully, every speedster draws to the same energy field.

A thought strikes him, and he's calling Bart before he can properly think about it.

"Yo, Dick Grayson!" Bart cheers over the phone, and Dick grits his teeth at the unnaturally bright and lively tone. He's obviously around other people, and he's living up to the fun, lively speedster character he's got going.

"Bart," Dick greets, and then gets right into it, "Have you ever been told about an energy field, specifically for speedsters? Barry described it as just an endless field, and said he found it hard to slow down."

"Oh! The speedforce, yeah. Dad mentioned it a lot, warned me of it. You know, too fast, and _poof_! You're stuck in the speedforce unless you find a way out. Wait- oops, you don't know the name for the speedforce yet, do you?"

Dick can't help the small smile. "No, but it's nice to have a name. Did he mention how to find a way out?"

"You need an anchor, something that can guide you back and slow you down. What's with the sudden interest, anyway? Spoilers, but I know Gramps doesn't - _oh_. Oh, you think... Wally?"

While Wally and Bart didn't really spend much time together, it's clear that Wally - while originally annoyed with his antics, and his speed - has a very, very soft spot for Bart. And Bart admires Wally, to the point where he still struggles on days to live up to the mantle left to him.

"Yeah. Don't let anyone know, okay?"

"Do you need me down there or anything? I can help!" He sounds eager, but a little desperate as well - all too determined to help Wally in any way he can.

"Have you ever been to the speedforce yourself, Bart?" He cuts in before Bart can start rambling, and the silence on the other end is enough of an answer. "Then I can't ask you to do this. Just keep it quiet, and by that I mean tell no one. I'll let you know if anything happens."

"Alright. Hey, Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"If anyone can bring him home, it'll be you."

 

* * *

 

Barry's pacing by the time they land. And speedster-pacing is something to behold, honestly. It's digging into the snow beneath his feet, almost creating an icy surface, making the pacing become more like sliding.

Bruce pulls up a scanner, and examines the data for a moment. "Well, there's definitely a higher reading of energy here."

"Okay. Great. So how do we get to Wally?" Barry asks, stopping for a moment. Dick's also stopped by the realisation that he's stopped thinking of this energy, these lightning storm incidents as just that - they're Wally, now. Whatever this is, it's a step to getting to Wally.

"You need to get into the energy field, the one you went to, the one we think Wally is in. You need to run, Barry," Bruce tells him, and Barry shoots him a look that Dick can feel beneath the mask.

He can tell why Bruce kept it back until now - the thought of it, the speedforce, is obviously something Barry's personally sworn not to return to.

"You need an anchor," Dick explains, reciting what Bart told him. "Something that helps you focus on slowing down and getting out. You seemed to have found it last time."

Barry thinks for a moment. "Right... Right, I thought about Iris."

"Judging by Wally's patterns, you're at least an anchor to him, and hopefully that means you'll be able to find him. However, it's clear that Dick is Wally's actual anchor. He just needs to focus properly on it and get himself home." Bruce's tone is inarguable, completely factual, and Dick thinks this is the first time he's convinced that this can work.

Dick steps up to Barry, taking a deep breath. "You'll find him. You can bring him home, Barry. But if you can't, then just remember Iris, and get back here."

Barry shakes his head. "Kid, it won't be me bringing him home. It'll be you."

They share a small smile, and then Barry's eyes widen, no longer looking directly into Dick's mask. He's looking a little further down, at his neck.

"The... lightning is there. The marks," Barry breathes out, and that seems to steady him, seems to get him completely focused.

"Alright Wally," Barry says into the air. "We hear you. I'm coming to find you, you rascal."

If his voice is a little choked up, no one's going to say anything about it.

Barry looks back, looks at Bruce, and the two share a nod. Then, before Dick can even look back to Barry's direction, he's gone, leaving Dick with a face full of freezing wind.

There's only so much space for Barry to run around, and Dick sees him go past once, and then  he's out of sight, quicker than Dick's ever seen him. Suddenly, there's the sound of thunder, a bright flash of lightning, and Dick steps back to Bruce's side.

"I'll assume that's Barry entering the speedforce," Dick says, and Bruce nods.

"Name from Bart?"

"Well, not originally I guess, but time-travel makes technicalities real confusing."

The conversation is a nice distraction from the fact that Dick's heart is beating rapidly, that he feels such a strong swirl of emotions that they feel like they're going to tear him apart.

It's seven, seven excruciating minutes, before there's any activity again. Dick's starting to get worried that Barry's gotten lost - but if anyone's determined enough to find Wally, and stubborn enough to get him back home, it's definitely him.

_Please, please, fuck - please. Please, just give me this. Just let me have him back. I need him back._

Bruce detects the activity happening a couple miles from their position, so they get into the jet and move it. When they get out, they're just in time to see something like a portal opening up.

It's red and yellow, and there's lightning bolts striking out from it. And there's a moment where nothing happens, where no-one comes out.

But then there's streaks of lightning, and there's two noticeable trails rushing out, so fast that Dick can't follow them with his eyes. When he finally does spot what it is, he sees Barry stumbling to slow himself down. Which is weird, because Barry doesn't stumble, not really, not unless -

He's holding someone.

"Shit," Dick says, immediately running over. "Please, please, _please_."

Barry is struggling to stand up, the weight on his other side dragging him down. Dick sees the yellow, and he can't quite get himself to look at it properly, not until he's just by Barry's side.

And he can see him. The red hair, the green eyes, the freckles. Dick can't breathe, air trapped in his chest, but at the same time feels like he's taken his first actual breath ever since Wally disappeared.

Wally's knees are shaking so badly that he can't stand, and Dick takes his other side, helping lower him to the ground gently. He does his best to hold back the choked sob when he touches Wally for the first time. He's physical, solid, real. He's real.

_Focus, he needs you._

The snow is jarringly cold on his knees when he gets down. Wally's shaking all over, but it's definitely not just the cold. Wally can't focus, eyes darting all over the place, and barely seeming to register that Dick's beside him.

Bruce has crouched down as well, and he's speaking into his comm. ("Get the Watchtower cleared for our entry, no one needs to see this until we're certain it's him.")

Wally doesn't see him, either. Even when he looks forward, Dick can tell he's not seeing Bruce, not really.

"Come on, Kid," Barry says, patting him on the chest. "Come on, snap out of it. Focus. You're out of there, so you have to come back to us."

"Come on Wally," Dick mumbles, because his voice is too fragile for anything better. It seems to snap sense into Wally though, who startles and turns to properly look at Dick. His eyes widen, and Dick watches as tears begin to fall.

"Shit, Wally," Dick reaches forward, pulling him into a half-hug. " _Jesus_ , I missed you so much."

Wally says something, except - except it's too fast to hear.

Wally speaks fast, naturally. He likes to ramble, and when he gets excited his speech just gets onto the fastest train humanly possible. But only _humanly_. Wally's never been able to speak at superspeed, and it's always been a big frustration of his.

Dick pulls back, keeping a hand on Wally's shoulder (he doesn't think he can be separated from Wally right now for even a single millisecond). Wally's eyes are wide with shock, and he tries to repeat the sentence again. But he's still talking in superspeed, and when Barry realises he quickly moves to get into Wally's sight.

Barry starts speaking in superspeed as well, making calming gestures. And Dick realises Wally's not shaking, not properly, not really. He's vibrating, almost. Wally's seen him do it a couple times, like when he's so anxious he can't keep it bottled up, when he's anxious to just go fast. But not as clearly as this, not as powerful.

The panic is spreading, because Wally's only getting more and more agitated, more and more scared when he can't seem to slow down.

"Wally," Dick cuts in, placing a hand on his cheek. He uses his other hand to grab Wally's, placing it on his own chest as he takes deep breaths. "Breathe, dude. You have to breathe. Come on, copy. In, hold. Out."

It takes a few tries. A lot of tries, actually.

But slowly, Wally starts to slow down, his breathing beginning to match Dick's own, the shaking beginning to settle. Dick keeps repeating it until Wally's basically stopped, until he's pretty sure Wally's now just only shaking from exhaustion and the cold.

Wally slumps forward again, forehead pressing into Dick's shoulder. Dick just wraps his arm around his back, holding him and telling himself this is real. This is real, Wally's really back. He's _alive_.

"I missed you," Wally mumbles, only pulling back a little so the words are a little clearer. Dick runs a hand up his back, running it through Wally's hair.

He's just the same as when he disappeared. Dick's gotten a little taller, and his heart breaks at the realisation at just how different he is from when Wally left. How much time they’ve lost.

"God, yeah, I missed you too," Dick does his best to smile at him, and then looks at Barry beside him, and Bruce, "We all missed you. So much."

Barry pulls both of them in for a hug, and they both laugh breathlessly.

Barry then pulls back just a little, enough to stare seriously at Wally and get him to focus on him. "I'm so sorry, Wally. I didn't think that-"

"Uncle B, don't. Please, just don't blame yourself. I have nothing to forgive you for, I mean, you got me out of there." Wally's laugh is a little less joyful than before, but Dick's so, so proud of how well he's handling it all right now. He can tell Wally's struggling to keep it together, struggling to focus properly, but he's doing his best despite basically coming back to the world of the living after two years.

"We need to get to the Watchtower," Bruce steps up to them, promptly ending their moment. "Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian are on standby."

Dick's about to ask why, but then he realises. To make sure this Wally's really the right one, that he's who he says he is.

"Never change, Batman. Never change," Wally mutters, mostly to himself, but Dick catches it and laughs.

Barry leans forward to ruffle Wally's hair again, then stands up. "I'll come on the jet with you. Do you think you can stand?"

Wally takes a bit to consider it, looking like he's about to attempt it, but Dick can tell it's just going to end in tragedy. Wally's legs are as steady as jelly right now, and Wally knows it. So he looks to Dick, puts his arms around Dick's neck, and grins. "Nope. Looks like you're carrying me."

Dick huffs in exasperation, even though he's already getting his arms underneath Wally's knee and around his back.

"I'll give you two a moment. I don't think you're going to get one for a while once you get to the Watchtower," Barry says, smiling at them both before giving them a salute, going over to Bruce and tugging him over to the jet.

"He's not wrong," Dick tells him, ignoring Wally's eyes rolling. "They're going to have so many questions."

"Babe, it's okay. There's time. But right now..." Wally displaces one of his arms to tug at Dick's mask, who just winces when it pulls at his skin. "Okay, dude, did you seriously make the glue harder to get off?"

Dick grins, but is able to move his arms enough to get to the mask, pulling at the easier release spots. It peels off, and when he properly blinks, Wally's just staring at him, unmoving.

Wally's eyes begin to tear up again, and before Dick can do anything about that, Wally is leaning forward and cupping Dick's cheeks, pulling him down into a kiss.

He's home.

 

* * *

 

Somehow, they keep Wally's return down-low. Only J'onn and M'gann greet them, and quickly guide Wally down to the empty medical bay. They get Wally to lie down, Dick sitting beside him and holding his hand, and talk about what they're looking for.

M'gann’s able to keep her emotions controlled, so focused on making sure she gets this right for them all. Dick's thankful for it, because the emotional rollercoaster he's been riding has left him feeling burned out, and he can tell Wally's past the point of exhaustion.

They look through his memories, and while J'onn breaks contact first, declaring that he believes Wally is indeed their Wally, M'gann takes a moment longer. Just to confirm - she's been inside Wally's head many times before, and she's familiar to it.

She doesn't say anything, just launches forward and wraps her arms around him, starting to cry.

Bruce and Barry are standing in the corner of the room, and Barry's got a smile on his face, and Dick knows Bruce is relieved too.

"Wally," Bruce starts, getting their attention. "We’ll notify the League and relatives of your return. You can continue to rest in the medical bay for however long you need, and we will let visitors through when you allow."

Wally's nodding along, and seems hesitant at the end to answer.

"He should rest first," J'onn speaks up, surprising them. "He is exhausted. Give him a couple of hours, and then we will deal with visitors."

Wally squeezes his hand, and Dick looks over to him. "Aunt Iris," Wally says quietly, with no energy to say any more, and Dick nods in understanding, then turns his head to Barry and gestures him over.

"Can we get Iris up here? Just her for now," Dick asks, and Barry only has to look at Bruce for the other to nod.

"Bring her, I'll authorise the Zeta tube," Bruce instructs Barry, who just smiles, quickly goes over to ruffle Wally's hair again, and then is out of the room in a blur.

Wally's already beginning to nod off, struggling to keep his eyes open, and the others notice.

M'gann gives him a kiss on the cheek, telling him quietly how happy she is that he's back. Then, she addresses both of them.

"I can let the rest of the team know, but I can keep them away until you're ready to talk to them. But if you're not ready for them to know..."

"It's okay," Wally speaks up. "They deserve to know. Just... yeah, nap time."

M'gann nods, hugs him quickly again, and leaves the room with J'onn. Bruce follows not long after, leaving with a nod to Dick, and then it's just the two of them.

Wally's barely awake, just smiling a little and looking at their intertwined hands. Dick can tell he's trying to stay awake for when Iris gets here, so he starts playing with his fingers, running his thumb back and forth over his knuckles.

Something strikes him, suddenly, and his movements stop. Wally hums in confusion, but Dick picks it back up, trying to process how he's going to talk about this.

"We cleaned out your apartment. We kept most of your stuff, so it won't be an issue. But ah, when we were cleaning out, Iris told me something. Well, showed me."

Wally's looking a little more alert, fingers clenching slightly on the bedsheets.

"I really love the ring, Wally," he laughs a little, thinking about it. It's sitting safely back by his bedside, still in the box. "But I didn't have one to give to you, so I didn't wear it."

When he looks up to meet Wally's eyes, the other is instead looking up at the ceiling, scrunching his eyes together. "I was going to wait to give it to you. Like, years," Wally manages, shaking his head.

Dick tightens his hold slightly, squeezing reassuringly. "I know. We can wait until I get you one to match." He doesn’t point out that it _has_ been years, now, because the reminder stings.

Wally's smiling, but there's tears leaking out the corners of his eyes, and Dick brushes them away with his free hand, then leans forward to quickly kiss him again.

As he's sitting back down, he realises Barry and Iris have just made it to the doorframe, and he smiles at them. Iris has her hands covering her mouth, and it takes her a moment to jerkily stumble forward before she throws herself at the bed.

Dick lets go of his hand so that Wally can properly hug her, and goes to get up to give them some time alone, but Iris meets his eyes and mouths "stay". Not one to argue with Iris, he sits back down, smiling softly as Iris cuddles Wally.

Then, when she's finished, she moves around to the other side of the bed. Dick stands up to meet her, and then she's wrapping him in a hug. Surprised, he takes a moment before he hugs back.

"Thank you for bringing him back," she whispers, and Dick just nods because damnit, his eyes are leaking again and he's probably cried more today than all the time combined since Wally's disappearance.

Wally does his best to stay awake and talk to them, reassure them he's fine, but he's so worn out and exhausted, that he doesn't argue when Iris tells him to shush and go to sleep. Dick's gone back to holding his hand, Barry holding his other, and Iris is stroking his hair.

They sit there, all revelling in the fact Wally's really back, really there with them all.

Barry eventually gestures for Dick to meet him outside, and he gets up to follow once he’s certain Wally isn’t going to stir for a while. Iris smiles warmly at him, then settles down into the chair to take up the hand-holding.

 

* * *

 

Barry explains the speedforce to him in the hallway outside, as best as he can anyway.

"It's really just this blur, and it's so bright and overwhelming. You're just running, because it's all you can do, and everything's just rushing by and you can't slow it down. Buildings, people, memories, time. This time was better, because I thought about Iris, and then I thought about Wally, so I felt like I was in control more."

He's leaning against the wall, and Dick's taken to sitting down on a waiting chair. His legs still feel weak with the relief that Wally's safe.

"He was faster than me," Barry admits, quietly. "I was yelling, but he didn't slow down until he reached a certain point. It was a memory, I think, with you. I think all those times he appeared on your skin, those were the times he slowed down enough to almost get out of the... Well. I'm calling it speedforce. Catchy, right?"

Dick just nods, smiling a little at the memory of his conversation with Bart. "Yeah, speedforce it is."

"He was still... A little translucent, I guess, when I actually caught up? Solidified when I actually touched him, and then a little more when he saw more memories. I think he just needed a little extra help in using you as an anchor to get back."

Dick leans back on his chair, looking out at the window at the end of the hall to see the galaxy.

"His speed definitely changed," Dick says, thinking back to Wally’s speed-talking. He sees Barry nod out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know if it was the speedforce, but he's never been able to keep up with my full speed. But he was beating me in there until he purposely slowed down a little. And the talking. That's definitely new."

"Well, he'd be pleased to know he can keep up with your conversations with Bart," Dick jokes, and Barry laughs, and then his eyes widen.

"Oh man, I totally forgot to tell Bart. And the Garrick's."

"I mean, M'gann's telling the team anyway. I'm just surprised he isn't over here already, honestly." Then something else comes to mind, and he groans. "Oh man, Wally’s going to get so competitive with Bart if his powers really have picked up."

He may have groaned, but the thought excites him. Wally mostly went into retirement due to a fear that he wouldn't be fast enough, not good enough, for the Flash mantle one day. His studies were a big part in that decision as well, but Wally's almost done with study, and maybe that competitive, level-playing field with Bart will get him back in, realising he's good enough (he's always been good enough).

"Man, three speedsters on active duty, isn't that a dream?" Barry's grinning at him cheekily, and Dick just genuinely smiles.

"Honestly, it really is," he replies truthfully, and Barry just laughs at him.

But now he's thinking about Wally's studying, and his apartment, and - oh man. "God, how the hell are we meant to get Wally back into the world of living? His apartment, his college, all the accounts we cancelled. This is going to be a nightmare to explain to the regular world with mundane things."

Barry stands over him, and ruffles his hair. It's a move he so usually does with Wally, but Dick can't say he minds it.

"Don't worry about it, the League can handle that."

 

* * *

 

Wally moves into Dick's apartment anyway.

Most of his stuff is already there after all, according to Wally, and therefore it's just easier. Dick certainly isn't going to argue it.

He's gotten back into his studies, waiting for the semester to start. He's filling up his holidays by training with Dick, Barry and Bart, getting a proper handle of his new accelerated speed.

They've both got the bruises to prove it, and Dick can't help but stare at some of them some days, remembering when he thought he'd never get to see Wally on his skin again. When he was all alone.

Wally will wrap his arms around him when he gets lost thinking about it, kissing the top of his head and reassuring him he's fine, he's alive, and he's got plenty of bruises from training to show for it.

Well, they've _both_ got the bruises to show for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I remember writing for the fandom in like 2012/2013 on ffnet and remember saying I didn't ship birdflash but oof here we are I guess HAHA. Still on my angsty Wally bullshit though. (If you remember me from ffnet, shhh, we don't speak about it). 
> 
> Also oops I haven't really watched s2 properly to remember all the details, and haven't watched s3 yet so just excuse any mistakes. I own them, they're my children now. also can you tell i'm bitter that Wally is underpowered in the show :')
> 
> Kudos, bookmarks and comments are always appreciated! <3


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